Frozen Regret
by All The Good Names Taken
Summary: Harry tries to forgive himself for the lives he cost.


**Do not read unless you have read "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows". CONTAINS SPOILERS! The dates of the characters birth and death are correct, except for Tonks. I do not know her birthday, but I **_**do **_**know she was born in 1970.**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

The snow fell heavily on the cold frosted ground that crunched under Harry Potter's feet. He was heading towards a place where many of his friends were, but there were two in particular he wanted to see. He pulled his jacket further over his face as the bitter cold nipped fiercely at his nose. It was hard to resist the temptation of just Apparating there, but Harry felt this was a journey he ought to take without any short-cuts. He was glad Ginny wasn't there; he didn't want anyone to be with him. What had caused this visit was his own fault, and anyone with him would just deny it, even though they knew as well as him it was the truth. Harry felt a bittersweet moment as his thoughts lingered to Ginny, and the love they shared, it made him happy, and that made him feel worse. It wasn't fair that he was going to get, what he had taken from those closest to him.

Ginny was with Hermione, basking in Hermione's new engagement ring. Ron finally proposed and now he and Hermione were to be married in a few months. Harry received an owl earlier from Ginny with the news. But Harry had to do one thing before he returned home. He was thrilled for them! At school he had always suspected they would get together at school, but it never strayed his mind that they would get married! He was sure he would ask Ginny soon. They had been through to much to just let it die now.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when he walked into the gate to the cemetery. He paused for a second and gazed at the small black gate, the only thing that stood between him, and his horrible mistake. Taking a breath, he entered and carefully walked down the icy path. Many headstones were dotted over the white field, all in perfect lines, like soldiers waiting to be instructed by their general. He kept walking, and with each step, he began to more and more ache. He longed for a way to reverse what had been done, but, he knew all hope was gone. What was done was done, he could not change the truth, no matter how much it pained.

It did not lift the young mans spirits when he saw to familiar red-headed figures, standing alone in the snow, watching the graves before them, the woman clutching a bouquet of blood red flowers. Harry took a deep breath of piercing cold air, and continued. The two people did not notice the approaching figure; they were too swept up in a grief that Harry knew had lasted two years now.

"Hello Arthur, Molly," Harry said, the Weasleys turned sharply; obviously they did not expect company on the grim day.

Harry for sometime had been on first-name terms with them, but he still felt awkward when saying it.

"Oh, hello Harry," said Molly; she sounded tired and sad. She forced a smile on her face, which Harry returned, equally as forced. Neither wished to smile.

"Ah, Harry my boy! How are you?" Arthur said reaching his hand out. "Taking good care of my daughter I hope?"

"I like to think so," Harry said taking the older mans hand. Arthur's lips curved into a smile slightly, but it vanished quickly as his eyes returned to the grave.

"Well," Molly sighed sadly. "Two years exactly tomorrow, since, Fred left us."

She choked, and Arthur placed his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her tightly. She gave way to her tears and she cried into Arthur's shoulder. Harry wished there was something he could do, but he could not give them what they really wanted, the return of their son. He did the only thing he could think of, and it wasn't enough for him;

"I'm sorry," Harry said, looking down at the frozen grass.

"Oh Harry, thank you, but, we must, press on," Molly said through choking gasps.

"No, not like that, I mean," Harry paused. "I'm sorry I caused his death."

Arthur and Molly faced him, both of their faces shocked. When Harry was seventeen, they never let him utter those words. They hated seeing Harry that way, but Harry felt nothing else at the time.

"Oh, Harry, it wasn't your fault," Arthur coaxed, releasing his wife and taking steps towards the young wizard. "What happened had nothing to do with you, it was Bellatrix, not you!"

"But I was there!" Harry spat, growing angry with himself. "I was the one who Voldemort…" Even now, a flinch at the name came from the old couple. "Wanted, I was the one who saw him with Percy! I was the one, who could have saved him!"

Painful memories of that night came rushing back all to fast. He could see Fred laughing with Percy, and he could see the expression on the twins face when life was wiped out of him forever.

"Harry, nothing could be done," Molly said. "Fred died to save Hogwarts and a friend…"

She placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "He wouldn't have wanted to go any other way."

"But," Harry continued. "I'll be able to go on with my life! I'll probably get married! Have children! Move on! But Fred! He'll be stuck forever as a nineteen year old! Never to age! Never to get whatever he wanted out of life!"

Harry could feel tears spring in his eyes. They felt too hot against the frozen, pale skin of his face. He turned from the Weasleys for a few moments; he didn't want to see him cry. He glanced down at the grave. The ebony black marble stood out from the blinding white background. In gold, calligraphy letters was written;

_Fredrick Weasley_

_Born 1__st__ April 1978 - 1998_

_A Beloved Brother_

_A Treasured Son_

"_When I get up there, you better not prank me!" George_

Harry stared at the quote. He knew it was supposed to be humorous, but he could not bring himself to smile. He realised again, that not only had he stole a son from two people he cared about, he had stolen a brother from his best-friends. The flowers stood out like blood on a handkerchief. They reminded him of all the blood shed on that one night, about all the people who gave their lives, for him…

"Harry…" Molly tried again. Harry turned slowly. Her face was unreadable, but Arthur's had a curious expression.

"Molly dear, who's that?" he asked. Harry looked down towards the gate. A dark girl with black hair was walking up the path towards them.

"I don't know dear, but, I feel like I've met her, or maybe, heard of her…"

As she approached, Harry recognised her. It was Angelina Johnson, of Harry's old Quidditch team. She looked tired and drawn, but it was still her proud face.

"Angelina? What are you doing here?" he asked stupidly.

"I was, ushered out of the castle by Professor McGonagall all those years ago, then, I heard about Fred…" her voice trailed off as she stared at the cold grave. "My parents moved, and brought me with them. They never let me return, until they had time to accept You-Know-Who's demise and had time to settle in up in Scotland, but, finally, I was able to get away…"

She was smiling, but there was grief and anger behind the brown eyes Harry remembered as being soft and caring. She walked up to the Weasleys and shook their hands, before she knelt down in front of the headstone. She reached out her hand and placed it over Fred's name.

"You probably can't hear me," she said softly to the cold marble. "But, I want you to know, that, even though I never said it, I'm glad you brought me to the Yule Ball back in sixth year."

Molly sobbed quietly. Harry didn't even glance at her.

"It was the best night of my life," Angelina said as she choked on the last word. "I know, everyone said…that, you…and George were identical twins, but…to me…you were a totally different, and, wonderful person all on your own."

She gasped as her tears became more pronounced.

"And, I will never forget you…" she sighed in conclusion. She bowed her head against the headstone and cried into the silence of the cemetery.

Molly leaned forward and helped the weeping girl up. Molly smiled truly for the first time. Harry guessed that it was because of the way Angelina felt. Arthur came up to Harry and shook his hand.

"Well, Harry, we better go," he said grinning. "Things to do! We have a wedding to prepare after all!"

Harry said his goodbyes and watched them leave. They soon disappeared into the snow, which seemed to be falling heavier now. He sighed, glad at the solitude. Harry began walking further along the same line. Six headstones down, was a giant, white marble marker. It was like Fred's stone, but wider. Harry knew it was because there were two graves beneath it. In gold letters, it said at the top;

_Lupin._

Below, it read in the same style, but black and smaller;

_Remus Lupin 10__th__ March, 1960 – 1998_

_Nyphadora Lupin 5__th__ April, 1970 - 1998_

_Here lies Remus and beloved wife, Nyphadora Lupin._

_Honoured Heroes._

_Precious Friends._

"_If I could do one thing over, it would be losing you…" Harry._

Harry yearned for that chance. He would go over it, over and over again. Any chance, anything! Just something to take back the lives of Tonks and Remus. He wished he could hear Tonks say "Wotcher Harry" again, and he wanted nothing more than to hear Lupin give him comforting words. He kept thinking how they had been married for less than a year! They had had their first child, and all that, was snatched away in a instant. Harry kept wondering how it happened. Was it a Death Eater? Or did they get in Voldemorts way? Hot tears stung his face again. He fell to his knees before the headstone, barely visible in the snow, except for the black letters. Harry reached into his robes and pulled out two roses. They were bewitched not to wither or break for a number of months, even though they had been in Harry's robe pocket all this time, they were still unharmed when he took them out. One rose was red, the other pink. Harry had their stems intertwined, wrapped around each other like they were hugging. The red rose was Remus, the pink one Tonks. The red rose fitted Remus to Harry. Red seemed to be the strongest, and bravest colour, and, to Harry, Remus was one of the strongest and bravest people he ever knew. The pink rose was Tonks. It was a young, bubbly colour, and not to mention Tonks favourite choice in hair colour. Harry placed the flowers on the icy grass and remained kneeling. He just kept reading over his quote.

_If I could do one thing over, it would be losing you…_

Harry wished nothing more than to do that night over. He would have done everything in

his power to stop Fred and the Lupins from dying, but he knew there was no way.

"Remus, I only wish you were here, to see Teddy," Harry sighed to the silence. "He does look a lot like you, when Tonks side doesn't kick in."

The snow seemed to get lighter, now only like a drizzle of pure ice.

"You should see what happens! It's so funny!" Harry said, smiling of the thought of the two year old. "His hair turned pink last time I saw him! It was like Tonks looking back at me!"

His heart ached. Harry wished Remus and Nyphadora _were _here to see their son, thrive in a Voldemort free world. He wished for a lot of things, none of which were going to come true. Tears began streaming down his face. He gasped for breath after holding it for so long as more tears slid.

"It was my entire fault!" he said quickly. "You shouldn't have died for me when I was going to die anyway! This shouldn't have happened!"

He placed a hand inside his robes again and took out a picture frame. Inside, was a picture they had found within Tonks possessions. They all agreed Harry should have it, though Harry had tried many times to refuse. It was one of the most beautiful pictures Harry had seen, yet, he could barely look at it. It was never dipped in the special potion in which made wizardry photographs move like a small movie. It remained still, as the three characters within its wooden frame sat, motionless, perfectly preserved in smiles of pure bliss and love. It was taken the night of Teddy's birth. Tonks, (Harry really had to start calling her Nyphadora seeing as she was a married woman), looked tired but perfectly at peace, clutching the small baby, (who's hair at the time had been green), while her proud husband had his arm around her. Her long, wavy pink hair framing her sweet face beautifully, Remus, who had his usual grey look about him, was smiling at his wife. Pride seemed to be swelling out of the father.

Harry choked slightly. Two years ago, a young baby's parents were taken away forever, and it was his fault. His greatest mistake was letting them help. He shouldn't have. He should have had made them leave. He should have made an Unbreakable Vow to stay with their son. Harry placed the picture in front of the grave. Standing up, Harry wiped his eyes. He gave the grave one last look before heading back to the path. He slipped a number of times, but he didn't care. Once again, he returned to the gate. He stared at it, longer than he did last time. Now it felt like a wall, trapping him with his deepest regret.

Harry apparated to Grimmauld Place. Number twelve slowly revealed itself before him, but he barely regarded it. Taking the few steps towards the door, he took out his wand and prepared the spell to enter. Muttering the incantation under his breath, Harry entered the house after the door swung open. The house looked much better since the time Harry was fifteen. All the cobwebs and dust was gone, and having life within it made it seem happier and it had wonderful warmth flowing through it. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had been living together for some time. Each had their own room, but Ron and Hermione had been in the same room for many months now.

"Hey guys!"

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed happily. She threw her arms around him, beaming.

"Hey Hermione, show me!" Harry said, taking her hand and examining the diamond and gold ring around her finger. He wasn't sure if it was the lighting or magic, but the ring seemed to sparkle with Hermione's eyes.

"Wow! Finally!" Harry laughed as Ron entered the hall. The red-headed wizard put his arm around his fiancé and she kissed him on the cheek.

"Harry?" Ginny ran down the stairs. "Oh there you are! Where were you?"

The young witch ran up to Harry and gave him a quick kiss. Ron looked up for this. Harry took her in his arms.

"It's been like four years!" Harry said. "I'm with your sister! Deal with it!"

Hermione and Ginny laughed and started for the kitchen. Ron watched them leave. Harry patted his friend on the back and they followed the girls. Harry headed over to the cupboard.

"Okay, in light of the situation, I think we should celebrate!" Harry said, looking at his friends and returning their smiles. "_Accio _champagne! _Accio _glasses!"

A bottle of champagne and four glasses zoomed out of the cupboard and placed themselves on the table. The four friends celebrated 'til late into the night. After four hours of reliving old times and talking about wedding plans, Harry eventually headed for bed. Giving Ginny a kiss on the forehead, he went upstairs. Harry's room used to be Sirius' room. Many of Sirius' old posters were still upon the wall, but there were now pictures that Harry had put up. One of which was of the original Order of the Phoenix. Others included many of his parents and of himself and Ginny. There was also one that Mrs. Weasley had given him of the entire Weasley family, before Fred's death.

Harry fell onto his bed and gazed up at the ceiling. He didn't want to wake up tomorrow, in fact, he wished tomorrow would never come. Tears stung his eyes as his thoughts wandered to Ron and Ginny. He cared about them so much and they had stood by him for so long, and how did he repay them.

"I got their brother killed!" Harry spat to himself. He felt sick with regret and guilt. "Some friend I am…"

**Okay, chapter one. Reviews greatly appreciated! Flamers, you're wasting your time! I laugh at your remarks! **


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